Red Thorn
by Nine. F
Summary: Having been captured and forced to compete in a brutal game of life and death, Vev must fight his way out or die trying.


Chapter One

Vev gulped down the last of his whisky in one swift motion, returning the glass to the table and turning in his seat. He nearly got up but stopped himself, remembering to reach a hand into his pocket and retrieve a few caps which he also placed on the table next to the empty glass. With this, he stood up and straightened, his back would pay the price for the hours he'd spent sat at that table, but as he crossed the Mess Hall towards the door, he walked with relative ease – he assumed he would begin to regret his extensive pastime later on that day. He closed the rickety door carefully behind him and began on his way past Sloan's shoddy buildings, pausing briefly to crouch and pet Snuffles before straightening and continuing on once more. Not bothering to shift his path to include the dishevelled, disused road that ran along side Sloan, he turned left past the last building and up the slight hill towards the old mining quarry. The place had recently been abandoned due to a Deathclaw infestation a matter that'd soon been taken care of buy a courier for the Mojave Express. Understandably, the stories of a single mortal merely confronting a nest of Deathclaws, let alone slaughtering one, had spread across the Mojave and beyond, with some believing and others remaining sceptical. Fortunately for Vev, the minors were of the opinion that there was no way a hundred men could bring down a nest of Deathclaws, so they had deduced that one person taking on all those Deathclaws was a tale too tall for them to believe. Thus, the quarry remained empty and disused, which was why Vev loved it – he loved climb the dusty red rock face to sit on the canyon's rim and look out over all of the Mojave in its yellowish sandy glory. It'd become something of a routine for him that he'd settle up there just as the sun was beginning to set and he would watch the sun as it dipped behind the cliff edge.

Tonight was no exception, though he was about to find out that it would also be far from routine. He strolled contently through the empty quarry, paying little mind to the now silent machinery that littered the landscape, approaching the edge of the grand stone basin and pulling at the knees of his dungarees as he prepared to scale the acute rock face before him. The red rock let up tiny clouds of dust beneath his feet as he progressed towards the rock's edge and eventually rose over it to see the Mojave waste land spread before him like a picture on one of the old pre-war postcards. He sat himself down on the edge of the basin and gazed out over the landscape with a smile on his face, admiring the beauty of the world others found so barren and desolate. Much to his annoyance, however, the moment was shattered as the sound of bickering voices pierced the otherwise peaceful air.

Upon looking down, Vev noticed two figures stood at the base of the rock face, staring with annoyance into the shallow cave before them and arguing loudly to each other. Being the friendly type, Vev wondered if they could use a hand with their conversation and got up to descent the canyon in their direction.

As he approached, he overheard a small part of what they were arguing about, "-she said they'd be here," said one.

"Well clearly someone beat us to it." The other said pointedly, "I just don't understand - this place was crawlin with Deathclaws last I saw."

Vev called out as he reached them, "'scue me, you gentlemen need a hand?"

The two looked up suddenly, as if they hadn't expected there to be anyone else near the quarry, and they seemed to survey him scrutinizing as he approached.

They stared a while before answering slowly, "No, we're just fine...and what would you be doing round these parts? Seems an odd place for someone to take a walk."

Vev frowned and, in turn, looked them up and down as they seemed up to no good, "I enjoy the view. D'you mind if I ask what you're looking for?" He enquired carefully.

The pairs' suspicious look didn't falter as they continued with their reserved replies, "We're just on business, nothing to do with you." They said bitterly.

"Hey listen, I'm only tryin' to help a fellow out," Vev began but one of the two stepped forward intimidatingly.

"You lookin' for trouble?" He asked confrontationally.

Vev backed up a little, there was a silence as each stared at the other with accusing eyes.

Then Vev put his hands up in a vein gesture of submission, "Sorry to have bothered you, I'll just be on my way then if it's all the same to you." With this he backed away slowly and, after a moment, turned to leave. As he did, he heard the two men murmuring to each other and then the sound of approaching footsteps.

"Look, I don't want any trou-" He began but as he turned to address them once more, he was met with a sharp pain in the side of his head. He gave a yell and fell to the dusty ground, bringing up a cloud of dust which settled around him as he sprawled. His head throbbed as his vision blurred a little, he tried to get up but found his muscles refusing to respond as the two men approached him intently. Each took an arm and began dragging him away across the quarry towards its entrance, his vision continued to blur and fade and the last thing he saw was the red rock face he had been sat on only moments ago slowly growing further and further from him as he was unceremoniously dragged away.

He later found himself swimming in and out of consciousness for some time following, his vision was blurry and a white-hot pain burned through his head as he lay staring distantly at the giant blue haze above him – the sky, he assumed. Every so often, figures would appear before him, forcing wood and water past his lips or piercing his neck with the occasional stimpack. This was all he knew for what seemed like an eternity, until he awoke once again to find that his surroundings had changed drastically. The first thing he became aware of was the feeling of cold against his cheek, this accompanying the pressure on his chest led him to realize he was lying face down on what he then determined to be a cold stone floor of sorts. The palm of his hand was similarly chilled, and he opened his eyes to find it sprawled on the ground before him. Not far from it was a wall made of the same material he now saw was the floor. What hit him next was the throbbing pain emanating from the back of his head, he'd had his fair share of hangovers and this was worse than any he'd ever experienced - that wasn't to say that yesterday's extensive drinking hadn't played its part of course. Putting pressure on the hand before him, he managed to push himself up to a sitting position and reached a hand to the source of his headache. His fingers touched dried blood which seemed to have congealed itself around his hair over a course of days. He winced as he explored what was now revealed to be a sizable wound he assumed was left by whatever the men had hit him with. He considered himself a worthy opponent at the best of times, so it must have been a weapon of some power to have put him out in one blow. Attempting to push the increasing nausea back down into his gut, he rubbed his cheek, which was sore from having been pressed against the ground for what must have been some time and found himself staring at three blank walls, surrounded by the sounds of strange creatures he was used to encountering during his time wandering across the wasteland on his way to and from the various outposts, mess halls and drive-ins; the distant sound of scorpion claws clicking anxiously while their legs knocked eerily against the concrete floor, Nightstalkers hissed restlessly and the sound of Cazador wings beat heavily in the air as a constant hum. Behind it all though, was one sound that sent chills down Vev's spine, it was a low roar like that of a lion only bigger, the sound of heavy footsteps echoed as something big shifted in the near distance. This creature's voice was one Vev had heard only once throughout the entirety of his time in the wasteland, and it was one that'd haunted his nightmares ever since; he'd only caught a brief glimpse of this creature when he'd encountered it all those years ago, and with that image sticking painfully in the back of his mind, he had hoped never to encounter such a creature again. Of course this vow was not one easily kept, what with these behemoths roaming the majority of the wasteland a few years back – had it not been for a certain courier, who'd rid the mines of the beasts, extending the gesture across most of the Mojave, this would still be the case. However, Vev had been lucky enough to have stuck to his vow and never encountered another creature such as those on his travels, yet as he became aware of footsteps approaching behind him, he wondered if his luck was about to change.


End file.
